


Chapter 1: Have A Drink On Me

by BadgersQueen



Series: On The Road [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadgersQueen/pseuds/BadgersQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meredith finds herself thrown into a world of demons, angels, monsters and everything she'd believed to be actually real. With an unexpected companionship with the demon, Crowley, she finds that survival isn't the only thing she's going to get a lesson in...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 1: Have A Drink On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the chapters are done in my OC's POV. (Will be stated otherwise).
> 
> Meredith is my OC & belongs to me.
> 
> Crowley & all things Supernatural do not belong to me.

A few weeks passed. New state, new town, new motel. Gas station jobs and diner jobs, just part time. No word from Castiel. No matter how hard I talked to the ceiling at night before I passed out from lack of proper rest. I kept replaying the image in my mind over and over again. Of the man on the street corner. The casual stance with his hands in his pockets. I had wanted to find another one like the first but I knew it was dangerous. That was not my business. As I laid in bed, four in the morning and wide awake, I stared at the untouched pile of books. I had found a few libraries now and again and did research. But it was not the angels that interested me, it was the demons. Not sure why. Castiel had asked me to study the angels. I laid there and closed my eyes, hating myself. I believed more in hell than heaven. And no, I do not hate god nor the angels. I do not worship Satan nor do I condone violence and death. My heart just sympathizes with those who tried and gave up. Everyone deserves a second chance in my mind. 

I took out my phone to check the time. Almost five am. My head throbbed from a headache that had been threatening it's self on me since the day before. I had nothing to cure it with. No medicine. I had used the last of my Tylenol two weeks back. I didn't want people getting used to seeing my face. Pharmacies and drug stores had security cameras. What if the demons found me again? I had to keep moving. I had done well hiding from the cameras in the gas stations, true. But how long before I slipped up? Sighing and closing my eyes, I decided to sleep. I had tipped the guy at the front desk and he had given me a sign for my door to not disturb. Tired from the four or five hours of sleep I have been keeping, I found myself sleeping through the day. Waking up only to use the bathroom and drink water before sleeping again. Dreaming about standing in a deserted road and watching my soul burning in the middle of some circle with funny symbols that I didn't recognize. 

It was eight in the evening when I woke up next. Terror running down my spine. I had heard a gun shot somewhere close by. I knew running and leaving town was the safest option. I could have just stayed in bed quiet but a murderer or a robber would not heed a 'do not disturb' sign. And what if it was a demon? Ignoring the hours I hadn't even eaten, I packed up my things and moved quickly. It was crisp out but I ignored it. I needed to eat before I left town. There was, luckily, a bar or some type of Tapas, just one the edge of town, just before the highway. I was too paranoid about walking at night and what if I was being followed? I was a sitting duck out here. Forgetting about the man I had seen weeks ago, forgetting about my nightmare, I went into the bar. It looked like a five star kind of place. A place I couldn't afford, now that my mind was properly working again. And I got the feeling I was being watched. Turning to glance around, I noticed a few or more customers were watching me. Their eyes going obsidian black at my presence before going back to normal. 

"That was kinda spooky", I muttered, feeling more than a little unwelcome. 

"Don't worry about them love, they just don't take kindly to humans", a voice spoke up from nearby.

I turned to my left to see the man in the black suite and red tie sitting at a table. I frowned slightly, "You", was my only response, "Your the guy I saw a few weeks ago". 

"Well, well, well, you do remember me", he chuckled, looking flattered, "Honored. As I remember you. So I suppose we do have something to talk about. I thought I was going to be drinking alone", he shrugged. 

I was reluctant to step near him but I felt it rude to be standing in the middle of a fancy place and I was severally under dressed in my leggings, boots, hoodie, t-shirt and knitted hat. I swallowed a little, feeling exposed under his gaze as I came to stand near his table, "Who are you?" My eyebrows frowned in a quizzical manner.

"That depends", he looked amused, "Why I don't I buy you a drink and we can talk brass tax". 

"I don't know you. I don't trust you", I exclaimed. 

"As you shouldn't trust anyone. Your smart, I like that", he tipped his head towards the chair opposite him, as he was sitting at a two-person table, "But please darling, humor me. Sit. Have a drink".

Normally I didn't let anyone buy me a drink but there was something about his eyes that told me he was possibly dangerous but also being a gentlemen. And if I was in a room full of demons, I knew if I didn't do as he asked me, I was dinner for whoever wanted it. Shrugging off my bag, I sat down in the chair opposite him. He already had a glass of bourbon or whisky, I couldn't tell. He smiled a little more, "What's your poison?" 

"Glass of white wine please", I told him. 

It was though the air in the room had thinned greatly. The man opposite me waved his hand in the air before pointing at me with a finger and the bartender looked mildly annoyed. The waiter came over and served me my drink only a minute later but I just stared at it. Glancing up at the black suited man. 

"I didn't poison it and if is poisoned, I'll have the man killed", was his response to the look I was giving him.

"Why should I believe you? I don't know you", I commented, "And I'm not stupid. I'm in a room full of demons and they are giving me the stink eye".

He chuckled, sitting up a little straighter as though he was about to show me a power point presentation or sell me something, "So you aren't just a female worm among the thousands who pretend monsters aren't hiding under their beds", he made a face, "The name's Crowley. King of the Cross Roads and who do I have the absolute pleasure of talking to?" He wanted to know.

"Meredith", I answered back, one hand cupping my drink, my fingers playing against the cold glass, "How do you know anything-"

"The maid who came in to clean your room last week saw dozens of books sitting on your table. I gave her a discount on her soul and she has twelve years to live for giving up that little piece of information", Crowley explained, "You don't really believe I wouldn't try to find you after you accidentally found me". 

"So this drink is like my last meal or something?" My heart had fallen down into my stomach, "I'm not supposed to know about deals or demons or whatever", I shrugged. 

Crowley laughed, obviously amused, "Hardly. I'm buying you a drink because office hours are closed. Until some dumb ape decides he can't stand his life anymore", he made a face, shrugging, "But more to the point, let's have a chat, eh? Let's talk about you".

"There's nothing to talk about", I smiled, taking a sip of my drink finally, "Why is a demon interested in talking to me?" I suddenly thought.

"Call it what you want. Interest, curiosity, blah blah blah", Crowley waved his hand, "You, fascinate me. The maid who found your books gave me some of the titles and you've done your research. Extensively", he paused, looking impressed, "But you don't peg me as a religious woman", he slowed down his wording, analyzing me.

I felt uncomfortable but sipped my drink again, "I'm not. I was asked to learn about angel lore", I paused, knowing I was just looking for anyone to really talk to after being out of contact with the outside world after a while, "But that's all I can tell you", I paused again, "What's your job exactly?"

"I make contracts with human souls. Sort of like a salesman. But don't let this adorable face deceive you", He smiled, looking proud of himself, "I'm not the sort of person, or demon, you want to mess with".

"I figured as much. The night I saw you, I thought you were some mob boss or something", I half laughed out of my own stupidity, "So why go through all that trouble to kill a maid? I'm a nobody. You have thousands of people I'm sure that you could be talking to".

Crowley chuckled, "True. But when it's all said and done, hell will rise up and you and your kind will crumble. Though, if your lucky, you may live through it. But what do I know? Just a crossroads demon", he took a sip of his drink and then seemed to a pull a bottle from thin air and pour more, "Where are you going next?" He wanted to know.

"Why should I tell you?" I wanted to know.

"Why not? Will save me the trouble of killing all cleaning ladies between here and California", Crowley shrugged.

"I don't know where I'm going or why", I said, swirling the wine in it's glass a little and staring down into it, "I just know I have to keep moving". I glanced up at him and he was watching me as though he were trying to figure me out. I was unnerved about why a cross roads demon was so interested in me. I was a nobody. Just a lonely female who had no purpose in life. "You knew I was coming here didn't you?"

"Truthfully, yes. I had some friends of mine start a ruckus at your motel to get you to move. I had no way of knowing you would stop on your way out of town. And like I said, I'm on break", He gave a smug grin, "But that's just the question isn't it. If your so cautious about not being found, why are you having a drink with me?"

My gray eyes met Crowley's dark brown eyes, "Because your more powerful than you look and I know not to cross a demon. And your not just any demon. Your the king of the cross roads. A powerful demon that doesn't just tell people they get ten years before they get killed or whatever", I gestured to the demons around us, "You're the reason I'm not being picked apart and why I haven't died, aren't you?"

Crowley looked satisfied, "Smart girl. And I suppose I could leave you to figure that out yourself shouldn't I? You'd be stupid to trust me", he smiled, "But I know your not stupid. You just don't want to believe me. You'll wake up tomorrow and think none of this happened", he waved his hands, gesturing to the room, "You've walked right into a demon's nest without a scratch".

"I'm confused", I muttered, hands slipping back into my lap as I looked down at the table.

"Aren't we all", Crowley stated in a joking manner, folding his hands on top of the table. He pulled up the sleeve of his suite jacket and looked at his watch, "Next time you get a part time job, make sure you don't give your boss your motel address", he looked up at me.

"You...you've been following me?" I scrunched up my face, severally more confused.

"I'd love to stay in chat but some drunk truck driver decided he needed to dig in the dirt", Crowley rolled his eyes, "Job never ends", he looked vaguely apologetic and stood up, making to leave, walking past the table. 

I almost got whiplash turning to him but he was gone. The customers just pretended I wasn't even there and I got up in a furious rage. Grabbing my messenger bag and duffle bag swinging madly off my shoulder as I ran out into the middle of the street. I spun around, trying to look around. 

"Crowley?!" I shouted but the only response I got was crickets and the traffic on the highway and all other streets from this one. "Great. Just great", I thought to myself, feeling confused and frustrated. I had thirsted for any sort of conversation, any interaction I could get. And now I wasn't sure what had happened. Other than the white wine was making my head throb again and I was hungry. I did the only thing I could: I kept walking. I followed the highway until I came to the first motel. I'd seen a sign for an airport so I figured this was the closest one to crash in. It was past one in the morning by the time I fell onto the cushy double bed. I just dropped my bags onto the floor and kicked off my shoes. My head throbbed in a sort of heart beat rhythm. "I can't keep doing this. I can't. I'll die before I can figure out what to do", I mumbled, feeling like crying.

I hadn't cried in a long time. There I was in the dark, tears threatening to fall. It was dark and my stomach was crying worse than I was. I stared at the opposite wall until I finally cried myself to sleep. Pressing my face into the cotton pillow case. I had ran, moving, keeping myself hidden for so long. I was tired. Sleep finally took me. When I awoke hours later, fetching breakfast from the buffet in the lobby hall of the motel, one of the front desk clerks said someone had left me a message over the phone. He looked confused and handed me a piece of card stock. In the man's hasty yet legible hand writing, it read: Meet me in three days. You'll know where to go. I smiled and took the piece of card stock, heading back to the elevator. Re-reading the note. 

"Crowley".


End file.
